


What Lies Between You and Me and the Secrets We Keep

by ChildOfTheDragon



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Character Death, Future jackrabbit, Gen, I certainly gave him a dirty mind, Jack Frost probably has a potty mouth, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Past blackice, as usual i'm just making a mess, cursing, lotsa jumping back and forth on a timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:54:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27230818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChildOfTheDragon/pseuds/ChildOfTheDragon
Summary: Jack spent 300 years nearly completely alone; getting used to being tossed back into social circles was going to take time. Pitch spent 300 years locked in darkness; building up his power again was going to take time. Bunny spent years building up the walls to keep him safe; breaking them down was going to take time. And what if the best laid plans never go as you plan?
Relationships: E. Aster Bunnymund/Jack Frost, Jack Frost/Pitch Black
Kudos: 9





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Hey. 
> 
> Couple of things to just note real fast before I release you into the wilds of my fanfic fuckery.
> 
> 1) I started writing this back in 2013, and had to drop it for SEVEN WHOLE ASS YEARS. Long story short, LIFE HAPPENED and I was homeless for a hot minute. I lost a lot of my worldly possessions and with those went the notebook that had all the work I had put into this thus far.
> 
> 2) This is gunna be a long ass story. I may have lost most of the notes and plot points and prewritten stuff that I had for it, but I still remember most everything that I wanted to do and what was gunna happen and I’ve already started rewriting out all the things that I do recall and shit. I know that before I lost what I will henceforth call “the old notes” I had roughly planned this story to have about 100 chapters, give or take depending on how plot worked out and the editing process. For context, my other fic For Your Entertainment is about twoish years old now and sits at only 32 chapters. That story might also be a fic that hits 100 chapters, I don’t know what to do to prevent that because I have a problem and I’m not sorry for it.
> 
> 3) I have a habit of starting fanfics that I don’t finish. I mean, obviously I’m trying to break that habit, but you should just be aware that this went on hiatus with no note or updates for SEVEN WHOLE ASS YEARS. I'm gunna try not to let that happen again, but you are being warned that it very well might. 
> 
> 4) I write first and foremost for myself. I get into things that could become uncomfortable for yourself or other people. Please be safe, and bail out if you need too. I will be sad to see you go, but your mental health is more important then my story or ego. Just remember that you are responsible for cultivating the experience you wish to have on the internet as well.
> 
> 5) My stuff isn't for kids guys. I would hope that was something that would go without say, buuuuuut apparently I gotta say it. I know minors can make up a big part of fandoms sometimes, but I am an adult writing adult themed stories and posting on a site that specifically holds space for those kinds of stories to exist. I'm not here to befriend anyone under the age of 18 and I do not condone anyone under the age of 18 reading my stories. I know you're still gunna, I'm not stupid I was under the age of 18 once too, but just know that you're not SUPPOSED to be here. Y'ALL BEING PUT ON THE NAUGHTY LIST. 
> 
> 6) If you weren’t aware that the Rise of the Guardians movie was based after the Guardians of Childhood book series by William Joyce, I’m sorry but where have you been? It’s been like eight years! But that’s a thing. And uh, this fic is like a weird marriage between them. Also, as of the writing of these first two chapters and the posting of them here and now on AO3, I haven’t read the last book in the series. I have a feeling Mr. Joyce already did some of the same things I did, just with less….death and dying. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe his series went in a totally different direction. I won’t know until I get a chance to reorder the books and reread them for my research, sooooo…...there’s that. Sorry for all the dying and war and bad stuff Mr. Joyce. You wrote a really good story (that I’ve read so far) and the movie was great too. I just have a bad habit of picking apart the things that I love and frankensteining them back together into a monster that I love more and wish to nurture and care for, please don’t hate me. 
> 
> 7) I'm posting these first two chapters to see what interest people might have in reading it, but updates for it won't really start until 2021, according to what I have planned around my work load right now. You might get something in December if my drive is high enough, but with NaNoWriMo literally around the corner and a goal to post 8 more chapters on my other story in the next two months, please don't hold your breath for that. 2021 is the set goal for this fic's next update, hopefully sometime in January. 
> 
> So yeah, that should be all. Let’s get on with the fic!

**Prelude**

He was made of stardust. Of twinkling light and faint shimmering colors. Soft and airy, but enduring and true and shining, shining, always shining. His heart was fierce and loyal, his laugh was as musical as the tinkling chimes of dozens of very small bells, clamoring against one another as the sound swirled up from his small belly and cascaded from his smiling mouth. And oh, how did his smile light up the faces of those around him, especially those he cared for. It's light was not just the kind he kept all to his own face, but the smiles he wore were quite infectious indeed. He loved to play with the children, so many across the world, so many he called his friends, but those in the thriving town of Santoff Claussen were his closest, his dearest, his favorites.

He would answer the call of any child, for play or defense, to be a knight of pretend or a knight for real as he was since the golden days of long ago. The Golden Age had fizzled and faded, giving way to the long dusky days of the present, the Dark Ages were at the peek of their rein. But he was a light in this darkness, as he had been for eons, a light in the night and he knew in his heart of hearts that no matter how long a dark night stretched the dawn would surly come for he had seen many dawns. It would come, often just as it seemed darkest, often just when the moon had to slip away and it seemed the one who needed the dawn most thought themselves abandoned, yes, yes, then the dawn would come and the light would be restored. The light would be brilliant.

He smiled up at the moon, even though he knew his friend was not smiling back at him in this moment. They had wanted the same thing, to protect the children, always to keep the children safe and sound. He was made of stardust and wishes, and for years he had fought to keep the darkness at bay, to protect his charge and the children he came to care about, and he had always thought he would see the break of that glorious dawn on the day that the darkness was no more, forevermore.

Nightlight raised a trembling hand to his eyes, the blood soaked limb coming between him and his beloved moon.

He was made of stardust, and he was dying.

* * *

They had all felt the attack. A growing ball of worry, a sinking pit in their stomachs.  **_Pitch had lashed out again, something was wrong again, it was time to go defend the world from the fearlings and their Nightmare King, again._ ** But this time it was to be different, they knew it, they _felt_ it. Despite the worry there was a hope, flickering and tiny, but there.

"We'll get him this time," Nicholas St. North declared. "We have all of the relics now! There is no place left for Pitch to hide. We will seal him away, forever this time."

This time, this time, this time for sure. How many times had she heard those words? A hundred? Two hundred, or three? Katherine didn't know anymore, but she was sick of this. No longer the little girl she was when Pitch had first broken free, she was now a full grown woman and a graceful and lovely one at that. And she loved her friends, the Guardians she was now running with, quickly through the tunnels her pooka friend made as he lead them, bounding toward where they felt the pull of their hearts to reunite with their comrades already engaged with Pitch. She loved them dearly, she believed in their cause, but now she was sick of it.

Pitch was weary of them at present, knowing they held the five relics of the Golden Era that could destroy him forever, and as being destroyed would surely be a hindrance to his plans he had become cautious. Lurking in the shadows, hiding, and watching, and waiting, and binding his time. He attacked them only individually now, searching them for the weakest link, or just the best way to knock them back on their heels. He'd been unsuccessful for years, but now he had struck again and this time he intended to make them fall back one way or another.

Katherine fell behind the others, she and Ombric always did. They were honorary Guardians, they shared their friendship, some of their magic, but not all of the powers. It was up to the Guardians of the Relics to really stop Pitch, Ombric and Katherine were there to lend whatever support they could. They pushed back fearlings and called out warnings, the training Katherine had received from Ombric made them both powerful magicians on the battle field. But she slowed and took a moment to stop and pant against the wall of a tunnel. They would always be the ones to push Pitch back now, and she didn't worry for she knew they would always succeed, she believed in it with all of her heart.

Tenderly, she ran a hand over her lower stomach.

What worried her right now was the war that was ever ongoing in the world. A war between light and dark that most never seemed to know about, only sort of feel. As Pitch coveted the innocence of Santoff Claussen, he focused most of his efforts in seizing it, believing himself that once he had it the rest of the world would fall to his feet. And the world would because they weren't entirely aware of who Pitch was, just that from time to time a darkness would blanket the land and a night would fall. But they had also grown accustomed to the bright moon and the fact that the night never seemed to last, no matter how dreadful it seemed. But as she lived in Santoff Claussen, she knew all to well the devious plans of the Nightmare King and she had to wonder when would it ever end. She wanted to be a mother someday, hopefully soon, settle down with the love of her life and raise a family. She never wanted to leave her home town, but would raising a child there be good for it? Could she handle if something happened and Pitch took the child, or hurt the child? Would she ever have these dreams fulfilled?

She wished Ombric, her adoptive father, had stayed behind. He had insisted that the Guardians always travel in groups now, and refused to let Nightlight make his usual worldly rounds alone. She had offered to go with the stardust boy instead, but a joking comment from North about how much time the two spent alone together already had made her back down and allow her father to take her place. Neither her nor Nightlight were sure yet if they wanted the others to know about them yet, about their love. They knew they couldn't hide it forever, they just...wanted more time in their honeymoon stage...

Now, she was mad at herself, and mad at North for letting her back down. She wanted Ombric here to tell her it would be okay, she needed everything to be okay, because damnit, how was she going to raise a family in all of this mess?! And she was running again, as fast as her feet would take her, faster then she normally ran, because now she needed to keep up with the others, now she needed to be there with them, to fight beside them, to defend what she held most dear.

It was going to be different this time. They all could feel it. They just didn't know how drastically they were wrong about the hope they were all desperately trying to keep alive yet.

* * *

Nightlight clawed slowly at the ground. He found his crystal dagger, the moonbeam inside flickering and faint. He told it to be strong, and tucked it inside a crease in his armor. Across the way he could see Ombric laying still, his body contorted painfully. He had to make it to him, he had to make sure Ombric was okay. Because one of them had to be okay, one of them had to survive.

Pitch's laughter echoed through the forest, faint but ever growing. Nightlight wasn't sure how much time he had before the dark king would be upon them, and he wasn't sure he could defend them both till help arrived, but oh, he was damned if he didn't try. The wound in his lower stomach was already burning from the shot of pure darkness embedded in it, the crawling making it worse. The shot wasn't new to Nightlight, neither was this type of wound, but the severity of it was. He'd never been hurt this badly before. He knew the darkness was eating away at him from inside now, but he didn't know if it would cause him to turn into a fearling, cease to exist or if the steady loss of his life blood would do him in before Pitch had the chance.

He was almost there, Ombric was within his reach. Nightlight pulled himself up next to the old man and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Ombric," he said aloud, his voice containing it's own kind of echo but not one that could be heard throughout the forest for his voice was soft with an ancient magic. He shakes the shoulder gently, the way he sees Katherine do it when she'd come to wake her adoptive father when he'd fallen asleep in the midst of his studies again. "Ombric, awaken," Nightlight says, "home to Katherine we must go, her help she will give to us." The arm he was leaning on trembled under the pressure of his weight and he feared if he moved at all he would collapse. "Ombric," Nightlight's voice trembled now, "awaken, you must be here for Katherine. Please. Awaken."

"Nightlight?"

The stardust boy of glowing light had just enough strength to turn his head and look over his shoulder. A tall lanky peasant boy with brown hair and eyes stood there with a bewildered look on his face. Jackson Overland. Nightlight had met the lad two winters ago and they played together sometimes. The children of Burgress looked up to Jackson as if he was the big brother to the whole village. Jackson smiled and started toward his friend when Nightlight collapsed. He rolled to the side to avoid the body beneath him and Jackson's eyes grew wide when he saw the gaping wound in his friend's abdomen.

* * *

Bunnymund was leading the Guardians through the tunnels, with his superior nose and hearing it made the most sense, though he wondered if he even needed to. They all knew where they were being called, they could all feel their hearts telling them which turns to take down the tunnels. Bunnymund knew, he knew it so well. Because the mind meld was a natural occurrence amongst pookas he knew too how to block out the unwanted thoughts of others. And right now he trusted that the other Guardians could both keep up with him, and be guided with their hearts to find him when the next battle started, that was why he wasn't listening to anything but his own racing heart, his own frantic thoughts.

In that critical moment when they all sensed  _ something _ was  _ wrong _ only Bunnymund had cried out. He had screamed actually. Katherine had enunciated what they all felt, that Nightlight and Ombric were in danger, but the pooka had been the only one to express the horrible jolt they all received. He couldn't help it. That sharp stabbing pain in his chest was was not unfamiliar to him, oh he had felt it several hundred times before, several hundred years ago. He never wanted to experience it again, no he  _ could NOT _ go through that again. So he was praying, please, please,  _ please _ let it be a fluke, a joke, a misunderstanding. Anything but what he thought was real. Anything but what he knew...

No. No. It would be okay. He was blocking the others thoughts because he knew they had more hope then him and he had to hold onto his hope now too. He couldn't give that up and he couldn't let his own hope, so fleeting, affect their minds as well. They would make it in time. They would push Pitch back again, they would lock him away, this time for sure, for sure. Everything would be alright, it was always alright at the end if you held onto your hope. He raced harder then he ever had in his life because he needed to believe in that glimmer of hope so thin shining at the end of this tunnel.

But he already knew what he was going to find when he emerged into those woods.

* * *

Jackson had been out checking the fur traps he and his father had set up for the coming winter, it was to be their last run of the season before the snow set in. Mischievous trickster that he was, Jackson had skipped off on his own, and because he was old enough now his father trusted the boy to know how to take care of himself and be back before dark. He would have been if he hadn't happened to look up and notice something streak across the sky, then a loud BANG! resounded in the area. Something fell and hit the ground pretty hard a bit of a walk away. Jackson waited to see if anything else would happen, anything strange, but the woods had gone eerily quiet then. He shifted the weight of the basket he had, filled with empty traps and no furs; it wasn't unusual this late in the season when the animals started hibernating. He took his walking stick, a long wooden branch with a useful natural crook at the top, and started jabbing the ground ahead of him as he walked. His bare peasant feet were numb in the dusting of frost and first snowfall of the land, but that didn't mean stepping into a metal claw trap wouldn't be painful if he wasn't careful. He smiled at the slightly morbid thought of losing a foot; at least then his mother couldn't harp on him for always making his siblings wear the shoes they got for him in the wintertime.

It didn't take long to find what had crashed to the ground and for a moment Jackson tilted his head in bewilderment; Nightlight never dropped by Burgess this late in the day. He called to his friend and started to smile, but the mirth was stolen away in his next breath as the boy collapsed. Jackson ran to Nightlight and dropped to his knees, heaving the basket to the side as he did so. He didn't know who this old man was beside him, maybe one of the people Nightlight spoke of on occasion? They looked bad, this was bad. Nightlight was bleeding heavily and for a few moments Jackson's hands waved frantically between the two in a panic over who to help first. Nightlight, the boy needed to stop the bleeding on Nightlight.

He pulled off his cloak, vest and shirt. The night air was cold but he hardly noticed in his sudden rush of adrenaline. The wound didn't go through, just punctured the front. "Nightlight," Jackson said, picking up the faintly glowing boy's head; had he always flickered drastically like that? "Nightlight, stay with me, okay? I need you to tell me how to get the armor off so I can dress your wounds."

"You cannot touch it," Nightlight gurgled, his voice strained. "I am dying...but do not let it...take you too..."

"What?" Jackson squeaked. He clawed at the armor trying to find a strap or clasp to undo, anything that would help, but the only opening to the body below was where the armor was violently torn asunder to expose the rip of the weeping flesh. It was as if the protective covering was never meant to come off. On a hunch he grasped at the jagged edges of that hole and tried to pull, but an oozing tentacle of darkness shot out from the wound and wrapped itself around his hands. Jackson screamed but not as loud or painfully as Nightlight did when he tried to pull away and jolted the wounded boy.

The eldest Guardian gritted his teeth and grabbed the manifestation of darkness, digging his nails into the black flesh and shining as brightly as he could muster. The thing let Jackson go in an instant, the lanky boy falling over onto his rump, and retreated quickly back into the depths of his stomach. In retaliation to denying it a feast of the innocence Jackson presented, the darkness took a long drag of Nightlight's life, nearly completely snuffing out his inner light. He cried out in pain and defiance, feeling it wiggling inside him, burrowing now deeper, choking him. Ombric had been the one to perfect the technique used to extracting these kinds of fearlings but they had never had so much time to burrow before; he wasn't sure they'd be able to get it out in time. His head rolled to the side in a daze of pain and was met with the crumpled sight of his friend and tears began to well in his eyes. It was finally dawning on him how bad the situation was.

Jackson grabbed his vest and started wadding it up. He pressed it to Nightlight's stomach, cringing a bit when the boy screamed but didn't let up on the pressure. "Sorry, Nightlight, but we have to stop the bleeding."

"No," the dimly lit boy gurgled. Blood coughed it's way up his throat and spilled from his mouth. "Take...this...go to the others..." With difficulty he reached into his armor, pulling out the crystal dagger he'd tucked away. The moonbeam was frantic, flashing dramatically and banging against it's clear glass case. Nightlight tried to smile at it but the look was more of a grimace. "Take...take the oath...you are a Guardian now, so...do not let him have this or all is lost..."

"Wait, wait, wait, what are you—what are you talking about?" Jackson stuttered over his words, his anxiety coming to a boil. "C'mon, c'mon, you're gunna be fine—fine. Shhh, shhhhh; Don't, don't—don't talk right now. I'll—I'll—I'll get you help, okay, okay? Just—just hold on."

"The staff..."

"What?

"Your Staff, Jackson!" Nightlight held out his hand for the discarded stick. "Bring it here...I need it..."

"You—you need to rest, okay? I'll—"

"No More Time!...Jackson...please...this is...important..."

The brunette swallowed hard as he looked back at the bleeding wound. Already the shirt was soaked through, a crimson stain on the faded yellow cotton. He realized he was listening to Nightlight's dying requests. "Shit," he hissed, a subconscious flinch drawing across his face at the hell his mother would raise if she'd heard him swear. He pushed away from Nightlight and reached for the staff, snatching it up and bringing it back to his friend. "Here, here," he said, holding it so the other boy could see. "What do you need it for?"

"This..." Nightlight said and he pressed the dagger against the wood. A light began to shine and the dagger melted, reforming itself around the center of the shepard's crook, spiraling outwards along each end. The design was beautiful, like glass ice and frost encasing the whole thing. Then with a flourish, the newly shaped dagger disappeared, sinking right into the very wood itself. Jackson blinked several times, his brown eyes never shrinking in size from a wave of what would have been disbelief if he hadn't been witness to this event. "Here..." Nightlight croaked, shakily holding out the staff for Jackson to take. "Take it...and run...they won't know...what to look for..."

"Wait, wait, I don't—"

"The time for talk is over, Jackson," Nightlight's voice rasped, weak it it's strain not to break. He grasped the brunette's hand, forcing him to take back his own staff. "Ask my Katherine...for the story..." He did smile at that as tears started leaking from his eyes. "Katherine tells...the best...stories..." The peasant boy gripped his friend's hand tight, feeling it go cold, watching the light dim in his face and finally in his eyes. Jackson shook, in grief, in shock, and in more then a little chill. He didn't have the heart to take back his shirt, nor the strength to carry two dead bodies back to his village for a proper burial.

"Shit..." he whispered again, hanging his head in more then a little shame.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Jack dropped on the roof of the long standing barn house light as the breeze that had carried him there. The moon was starting to rise in the eastern sky and Sandy would be making the rounds soon, but he couldn't yet see the telltale signs of the golden sand. That was just fine with him anyway, he liked having a slightly longer moment with the children inside. Fearlessly, the winter spirit leaned over the edge on one side of the house, if he had been anyone else his sense of balance would have betrayed him to a sudden two story drop, but a light gust of magic kept him centered as he rapt on the glass window. Two children looked up and smiled widely at him, each getting up and running to the window, but the boy made it there first and tossed it open. "Jack, Jack, Jack!" the girl called, nearly teetering but catching herself and proudly staying upright.

He laughed as he crawled inside, swooping to pick her up in a twirling hug before setting her down to give her brother a hug. "Hey guys," he greeted, "miss me?"

"Only like a lot!" the boy said, taking the pale hand and pulling him along to the bed. Jack collected the little sister once more, depositing her this time on the bed itself, her bed of flowers and butterflies and fairy sheets and pillows. She laughed as she clung to his neck and Jack rocked a bit to test her strength before tickling her sides to get her to let go. He plopped on the bed next to her, letting the girl crawl onto his sweater clad stomach as her brother collected a discarded book before he too crawled onto the tiny bed. "I was starting to worry you wouldn't make it in time for the story."

The winter spirit paused in his gentle batting of the girl on his abdomen to consider the boy. "Jamie, when have I ever not made it for the story?" he asked, reaching out a hand to brush some of the brown bangs from the kid's face. A grin not unlike his own graced the boy's lips, and Jack idly noted the loose tooth he'd been told about last time now seemed more dangerously close to falling out. Above him the little blonde girl mimicked brushing Jack's snow white hair from his face, effectively drawing back his attention back to her. "We picking up where we left off then?"

"Of course!" Jamie replied. He pulled his sister off Jack enough so the frosted boy could sit up in the bed with them. Jamie propped himself with the pillow, Jack leaned into him and Sophie snuggled her face against Jack's chest, just below the frost of his collar. The younger brunette boy cleared his throat and began to read. "' _ The first thing Peter did next day was to measure Wendy and John and Michael for hallow trees. Hook, you remember, had sneered at...the...boys...for...thi... _ '"

Jack's thoughts drifted out of the story; he'd actually heard it a few times already from sitting outside window sills and listening to mothers get their children ready for bed. It was one of his favorites and he was glad that Sophie loved it as much as he did, but for somewhat different reasons. Instead his mind wandered to the brother sitting just beside him reading his little sister a bedtime story, and he pondered on the thought of family. He hadn't told the nine year old the secret he'd been carrying since just before Pitch's downfall six months back, that they were in fact related. Distantly, of course, but blood was blood and some of Jack's ran through Jamie and Sophie's veins, however slight. Absently he reached up and ran his fingers through Jamie's hair again, remembering a time when his hair was just as brown. His memories weren't all there, some were faint or fractured, but he'd found the answers he was looking at the time, so he supposed the rest didn't matter. And it wasn't like he couldn't ask Tooth to help him with the rest if he really wanted to know, it's just that she had been anxious about getting her palace back to rights after the attacks and his baby teeth were a set she apparently coveted above most else, more so since he became a Guardian. If it hadn't been Tooth he'd have been really weirded out handing them over.

For his entire existence as Jack Frost he'd wanted a family so bad it had hurt. Just to have someone to talk to, to acknowledge him, to show him they cared and worried for him. And, for 300 years, he had been continuously denied that. It didn't take long for him to fixate on someone, calling them family in his mind and pretending for the longest time that they could see him, hear him, give him what he wanted, no,  _ needed _ , something to occupy his ever lonely time. It was a comfort now to know that at least she had really been his sister once, that his fixation on her, her other siblings, her mother and father wasn't just him being a complete and utter nutter, though he was still sore over everything he'd gone through in the meantime as it happened.

Truthfully, Jack had descendants nearly everywhere now and being someone's approximate great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great uncle meant he was far enough removed from most of them that he could be considered a stranger. With the exception of the one line of his family that he had never been able to let go of, the one in whose home he was currently sitting in, he honestly couldn't tell you now for sure which of any of the numerous amounts of kids out there in the world had ties to him anymore. But he was happy he knew Jamie and Sophie did. He was so happy that they were  _ really _ his family, far removed or not. And he was so very happy that Jamie had been the one to see him first, to believe in him first. That, to him, was a magic that transcended the ability to ever be put into words.

Beside him the boy shifted, looking up with brown eyes Jack now knew he'd once had. He was softly closing the book, having finished that night's chapter, and motioned for Jack to be quiet as he pointed at his little blonde sister, now thoroughly passed the hell out on Jack's chest. The winter spirit nodded silently, waited for Jamie to be clear of the bed, and then ever so carefully rolled over and peeled the girl off of him. By now he was mastering the art of how to deposit little Sophie Bennett in bed without getting strangled in the process, a feat he was quite proud of. Without a second thought to it he pressed his lips against her forehead in a quick kiss, tucked the blankets around her and backed slowly away. Together the two boys tiptoed across the hall to Jamie's bedroom.

"So it's mid November," Jamie said as he crawled into bed. "That means you'll start sticking around more often right? And you'll bring lots of snow days?"

"As many as you want," Jack replied. "How's the tooth?" Jamie opened his mouth and pressed his tongue against the pearls of white lining his mouth. Lower left incisor leaned precariously forward, hanging on by it's last threads. "Whoa! It's almost out there, kid. You could pluck it right now, you know."

"Could you?" Jamie asked, scooting a little closer. "I mean, Tooth won't mind right? She'll come if we pulled it out right now, right?"

"Yeah," the winter spirit said with a chuckle. "Tooth loves you, I could tell her to stop by personally if you'd like. Here..." He gestured for the boy to sit still and show him the tooth again. Carefully he laid two fingers on either side of it, cooling the tips just enough to numb the area before quickly plucking the small fleck of bone from the child's skull. Jamie clamped his mouth closed as soon as it was done, instantly running his tongue over the new hole and the dab of blood there. Jack held out the incisor and he took it back with a smile.

There was a tapping on the window that drew the two boys attention and before the younger could find yet another reason to get out of bed Jack was there to open it. "Hey Sandy," he greeted as a dwarfish man who seemed to be made up entirely of golden glowing sand stepped into the bedroom. The likeness of a miniature bed and clock face hovered over his head as he gave Jack a slightly exasperated look. Jack scrunched his face in concentration for a split second before responding, "Bedtime! Right, got it, I know, Sandy. I was just saying goodnight." The little man tapped two fingers on his wrist with a slight smile. He knew Jack didn't mean to keep Jamie up too late.

"Tooth under your pillow?" Jack said as he tucked the little boy in.

"Yeah," the kid yawned. "Jack? I'll see you tomorrow, right? It's Saturday after all."

"Of course," the Guardian replied. "But if you want snow I'm gunna have to leave now to stir up a storm. Goodnight, Jamie."

"Night Jack. Night Sandy."

As he had done with his sister, the winter lad leaned down and pressed his lips against the child's forehead, a gesture he'd watched countless mothers and fathers lay upon their children at bedtime from the lonely perch on window sills. He thought little of it now, showing that gesture of affection to the kids he considered his own family was quickly becoming his favorite part of bedtime because to him it was a cementation of his ties to them, even if they didn't know that yet. Too distracted with that little act he missed the curious look Sandy gave him for it was gone when he finally stepped back to let the Sandman do his work. Gently Sandy sprinkled sand over Jamie's head and the boy was asleep, a pleasant dream of a snow day playing out over his head.

Jack followed his fellow Guardian back to the window and out it, alighting on the roof once more. His head tilted momentarily to regard the moon, a small smile caressing his lips at the large orb slowly climbing the sky overhead. Streams of Sandy's work ebbed around the whole town, giving it a soft glow of safety. Jack turned, watching Sandy craft several delicate fairies from his dream sand which he then shooed down to Sophie's window. "How've the dreams been?" Jack suddenly asked, catching the little man's attention. "No nightmare's spotted lately, right?"

With a free hand Sandy made a swirl of nightmare sand appear, doing little more then twirling it around before it crumbled and blew away in the nipping wind. He shook his head. Since his downfall, neither Guardian nor child had seen the boogie man in person but his nightmares seemed vary content to roam around without regard and prey on whomever they could. Sandy didn't look after just the children but he was becoming increasingly annoyed at having to double back for the adults that staved off his sand with caffeine and sheer willpower. The nightmares favored anyone who didn't abide by the protective power of a regular bedtime. They were easy to fend off or change altogether back into good dreams once caught, but a few herds of them were still at large.

"Well, I've got Burgess and the surrounding areas covered for tonight," Jack said as he turned back to look out across the town. "I'll let Tooth know when she stops by for Jamie, alright?"

Sandy nodded, miming a bunny racing around various areas above his head to tell Jack that Bunny would be out as well that night. The swirling sand then changed to look like dangerous storm clouds and Sandy worriedly made an X with his hands.

Jack stared blankly at the little man for a moment then seemed to snap to. "Oh, you want me to go easy on the snow," he concluded. "Yeah, sure thing. I was just thinking a few inches anyway, but just a dusting, ya know? Save the good stuff for Christmas vacation, North will love that right?" He chuckled at the exasperated look he got in response. A sleigh appeared in the sand then, with tiny little North, Sandy and Jack flitting about in it. From the look Sandy was giving him Jack could feel he was being asked a question but he had some trouble deciphering it. "Uhhhh...something with North...?"

Sandy looked slightly troubled. It wasn't that he and Jack never bumped into one another before then but they'd rarely, if ever, had a reason to communicate. It wasn't until a few years back that Jack had even known Sandy was mute. Now working together as Guardians they checked in more often, Jack often saw the fairies more then North or Bunny anyway, but it quickly became apparent that it would take some time before the winter boy would understand the Sandman as well as his peers did. Simple symbols didn't always work and complex symbols overwhelmed Jack so it was a matter of finding the right way of showing him the proper images so he could grasp the basic concept of the phrases. Sandy tried a simpler image of North and himself on one side of an addition mark and Jack on the other with a question mark following up. Jack looked, if possible, even more confused.

"Yoooou want me to join you and North in a threesome?" Jack questioned. Sandy facepalmed in response. "I'm sorry," the lad giggled, "That was the first thing I thought of; isn't that how this usually works, the first impression is usually right? Okay, okay, so you, me and North...are what? Wait, in the sleigh? Is North giving sleigh rides?"

The Guardian of Dreams waved his arms frantically. He tried the sleigh image again, this time over a town and had them play out each of their rolls, the tiny Sandman swirling tiny streams of sand to the houses below, the itty-bitty North hopping down to the houses once the sand had taken effect, and the little Jack swirling up a cloud of dream sand that made gentle puffs of dreamsand snow down on the little dreamsand town. The real Sandy looked hopefully at Jack and smiled when realization began to dawn on the boy's face.

"He wants to know if you'll help him and North on Christmas Eve."

"Thanks Tooth," Jack sighed disappointed he didn't get the words out in time. He forced a smile though, knowing she only meant to help. "That was going to be my next guess, you know, after I guessed weither I was being invited out on a panty raid or not."

"Jack!" Tooth gasped instantly looking flustered at his joke. Beside the boy the little golden man rolled his eyes in as if to say he could hardly believe the laughing boy beside him. "North would never-"

"I know, I know," Jack got out through giggles. "But can't you just see it now? Sandy puts everyone to sleep, we sneak in, steal the prettiest panties, badda-bing badda-boom and we're outta there! Hey, you want us to pick you up anything while we work it on Christmas?" Jack laughed as he ducked and dodged the incoming halfhearted swipes from both the toothfairy and sandman. "I jest! Haha, I jeeest! Ow! Hahaha!"

"You're terrible, Jack Frost," Tooth said, crossing her arms over her chest and trying not to crack a smile. "This is why North keeps you on the Naughty list."

"Well, I  _ do _ have a reputation to uphold," the boy replied. "But yeah Sandy, I'll help out on Christmas, of course. Just don't hold me accountable if I panties go missing that night because I won't say I didn't wa~aarn yoo~oou!" he ended on a sing-song note. "Anyway, Tooth, Jamie is asleep safe and sound, and his tooth-"

"Right! Teeth!" the fairy giddily exclaimed and quickly zipped away over the other side of the house. Sandy and Jack exchanged knowing looks. She was back less then a few minutes later, Jamie's tooth cupped between her hands. "Sorry, did you guys need anything else before I head out?"

"No, just look out for Nightmares," Jack warned. "Give a holler if you see any."

Tooth actually set down on the roof for that comment, her face becoming serious. "Do you think we still need to?" She looked to her long-standing co-worker. "I mean, no one has seen Pitch or his nightmares for some time, right?" Sandy gave a nod to agree with her. "And the fearlings seem to be completely gone altogether."

"Fearlings?" Jack asked.

"They were like his nightmares," Tooth explained. "But they were just...shadows and less sand, you know? But I guess they were before your time as Jack Frost. I mean, you got picked around the same time Kath..." now her and Sandy exchanged looks, "The same time we stopped Pitch before." If Jack noticed the switch in her words or that exchange he didn't comment on it, just nodded his head as he looked out over the town from the rooftop they stood on.

"Still, I don't think it hurts to be keep a constant vigilance," he remarked. "I'm sorry if this sounds mean, buuut, you guys seemed not to want to take Pitch's threats too seriously at first and maybe that was because you all got a little complacent, hmmm?"

"You didn't think he was such a threat either, if you'll recall," Tooth replied.

Jack awkwardly chuckled to cover up his own discomfort. "I didn't want to get sucked into all this hard work," he said.  _ I didn't want to believe he would be _ were the words left unsaid in his mouth. "But here I am, and here we are and if you're going to put me to work, then let's get it right the first time around so there's more room for play, alright?"

"Okay," Tooth conceded. "I suppose you're right and it can't hurt. I have to get going. Remember we have a meeting at North's in a week, try not to be late this time, okay Jack?"

"I'll try," the boy said with a wave as he watched the fairy take off. He stretched and started cracking his knuckles. "You might wanna start vamoosing too, Sandy. I'm about to drop it like it's cold up in here, as per Jamie's request." He nodded at the worried look and the reinstated X over thundering storm clouds made out of dreamsand. "I knoooow, not a full on snow storm, I got it."

Sandy spun forth a nimbus of his element and gently hopped on board, giving Jack a smile and salute as his ways of bidding the boy well. It wasn't long after that that the golden strands of glowing sand started to dissipate; Sandy's job was only to inspire good dreams, once they took root the kids could cultivate and grow them on their own. They would always remain happy and positive if the kids themselves stayed good. Overhead, the moon looked on with an especially bright halo this evening through the lingering cirrostratus clouds..

Over the years, Jack had become unsure which frame of hours he liked the most. The day was full of people and things with which he could amuse himself, but always the threat of being reminded that he couldn't be seen. The night held no such threat, but it did well to remind Jack that he was ever alone. Between watching families snuggle up for the night from windows or pleading to the never talking moon, Jack had felt a lot of heartache at night. It had lessened considerably in the last seven months, but as he watched the dreamsand fade he momentarily caught another taste of it. Bitter and sour, just as he remembered it.

Audibly shaking himself, Jack reminded himself that he'd promised Jamie snow. If he wanted to keep Sandy happy he couldn't let the bad thoughts linger in his head, or they'd make themselves known in a full on blizzard. Jack crouched then quickly launched himself into the air, his lithe form catching hold in the wind and shooting up ever higher. After a few dizzying spirals he could feel his own joy resurface, it bubbled up and poured from him in whoops and laughter as he spun through the cold, thin air of the higher reaches of the atmosphere. Condensation started forming around him, the wind whipping about to bring in the storm. Jack rode the air currents in vertiginous spins, the sky and earth mixing around him until he couldn't tell which way was up or down. The feeling of free-fall flight was his greatest exhilaration, holding tightly to his staff as his only anchor and trusting in the winds no to drop him. Sometimes, he swore it wasn't just him in the air, but that the winds were actually like him, sentient beings playing out a dance with clouds and precipitation as partners. Sometimes in the dizzying ecstasy he thought he'd catch the flash of a face in the nimbotratus clouds that would form around him, but this time as the mists in the high air swelled and took shape he hardly noticed anything beyond how nicely their bellies their bellies swelled with the pregnancy of his ensuing storm.

The snow that began to blanket the tiny town of Burgess was soft with fat, fluffy flakes. On it's own it would die out in a few hours, but not before a sheet of perfect puffy snow covered everything. In the morning there would be enough to sled on, and pack a few snowballs, but the fort building and snowman making would have to wait until deeper into winter yet. His snow job over Burgess done, Jack latched onto a swift moving air current and let it cart him across the lands. The light of the moon left few areas for any nightmares to hide this night and it wasn't long before Jack had finished his rounds, frost and ice trails left behind in his wake. It also didn't take long for Jack's excitement from the snow storm to die down and boredom to set in. Tooth was right, they were looking at some pretty uneventful nights coming up.

He was dropping out of the sky before he realized where he was, yet he set down as gracefully as he ever did, stooping into a crouch on the already frost covered ground. It seemed darker here, even during the predawn hours of the day, and in all the many times he'd visited Jack could never figure out why. Perhaps because it was abandoned now, the inventive buildings crumbling, not a soul to walk the streets in many years. Perhaps because the vegetation was overgrown and dormant for the coming winter, as the edges of town had long since been taking over by the thorny vines that thickly surrounded the building's locations. Perhaps because the giant oak tree that stood in the center of town, the one that looked like it had once been a grand and majestic place of residence for someone quite important, now stood ever bare and bleak, a withered husk whose insides were little more then rotten mulch now. Whatever it was, his thoughts weren't on it as he made his way to a certain area of town.

Not far behind the great oak was the town cemetery. It held enough graves for a town this size, and bore nearly as much signs of neglect as the rest of the villa. Names were long ago eroded off the headstones by the elements. Even now, he could hardly make out the name he was looking for, but it was hardly needed; Jack had the location and grave marker memorized by heart. It lay just to the left of the statue of a bear and wizard, both of them unknown to the ice spirit, and was marked by it's own statue of a young girl and giant goose. Jack ran a finger over what was left of a name, mouthing silently along 'Katherine the very Brave.'

"Good morning Grandmother Goose," he voiced aloud as he sat at the foot of the grave. "I'm sorry I haven't been by more often, we've been very busy, the Guardian's and I. It seems things are dying down now, so perhaps I can stop by more often, hmmm? It looks like your husband hasn't stopped by in a while...I wish you'd had the chance to tell me who he was so I could let you know how he's doing now. Well, I'm sure you're watching over him, aren't you?" Jack idly drew letters in the dirt, feeling for a brief moment a pang of guilt that he'd given Tooth and Sandy such a speech about being diligent in their duties as Guardians, yet here he was lallygagging around. "Jamie read for me and Sophie again last night. We finished the book of fairy tails and he's reading for us  _ Peter Pan _ now. Sophie really likes the fairy Tinkerbell. Oh! And he lost another tooth as well and Tooth was super excited about it, as usual. I think you would have liked Tooth, if you'd met her..."

Jack looked up when the wind carried the sounds of voices other then his own to his attention. In all the years he'd been in and out of this place, the only other person he'd ever encountered here was now laying buried under his feet. Cautiously he got up and went to investigate.

The sounds drew louder as he walked around the oak tree, sounds of a child laughing, which only perplexed him more. He couldn't imagine he'd missed an old lady AND a child in the 150 or so years he'd been visiting this abandoned town. Even so, a child meant he had a duty and that duty was fun, so if there were smiles to be had he would certainly like in on the fun. Another voice seemed to join in, this one lower in nature and belonging to a man, perhaps a father. Yes, buy the sounds of the words Jack could hear they were playing a kind of cat and mouse game where he was pretending to be a monster and chasing the giggling girl around. Jack smiled thinking that he already knew the perfect roll to play in such a setting and skipped the last few paces around the tree to the town clearing. He never seen the girl before in his life, but it couldn't have been her father that was chasing her around the clearing, that man he knew.

It was Pitch Black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real real quick note, this would be a sample of what my writing was like seven years ago. So, tell me if you notice a change between these chapters and anything going forward because I am curious if that's something that's changed over the years.


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